


Lady Elizabeth's Plan

by samsarapine



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsarapine/pseuds/samsarapine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Elizabeth knows exactly how to thank Lord Hazel, her older brother, for being the only decent member of the family: arrange a romantic liaison for him with Gat, the stable man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lady Elizabeth's Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lykotheia](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lykotheia).



> My deepest apologies if I've flubbed up the British class system in my overenthusiastic and under-researched efforts. Written for Lykotheia for the 2012 Saiyuki 7th Night Smut Fest.

**Lady Elizabeth's Plan**

Elizabeth's brother Hazel was an invert. She was quite certain of the fact. She was more than a bit proud of him – so modern, like motorcars, and electric lights in the house, and suffragettes.

But that was Hazel: modern, practical and always looking ahead. She had no idea why some people found him to be cold and aloof – to her, he was perfect. He minded his own business and never seemed to bother if Elizabeth was a Lady and Not A Hooligan. No one else in her family, from Mummy and Papa, to her other two brothers, Thomas, who would inherit the title and estate, or Edward, who wouldn't, left her alone as nicely as Hazel did.

So she wanted to do something nice for him, to thank him for minding his own business, and she was certain that she'd finally hit upon the perfect gift. It was particularly nice that he was an invert, since she was fairly sure that if she tried to set him up with one of her girlfriends from Mistress Yvonne's Academy for Proper Ladies, there would be a scandal. But being an invert was nice and secret, so it would just be between her and Hazel and nobody else's business at all. Period.

Of course, if Mummy ever found that she knew what 'invert' meant, or where she had learned of it, or that Elizabeth thought her Favorite Son was one, Unpleasant Things Would Happen, so Elizabeth, who possessed a well-developed sense of self-preservation, kept quiet about it.

Mummy was wrong about so many things, not modern at all. Take, for instance, her extreme overreaction to Edward's latest bout of tattling. If _Hazel_ had found the bitch and puppies in her closet, _Hazel_ wouldn't have told her father. Even if the bitch had whelped on the christening gown that had enveloped five generations of the Grosse family. 

But no. Edward had found the puppies, and had told her father, who had scolded her, and her mother, who had immediately pulled Elizabeth from Mistress Yvonne's boarding school as punishment for ruining the christening gown. Just because her long-dead ancestors and the rest of her family had worn it when some self-important Archbishop had pressed a wet thumb on their respective foreheads and said a few prayers. Elizabeth was the last one to wear it, so technically, she firmly believed she could argue the silly gown was hers to do with it as she pleased, since there were no more Grosses on the horizon, at least until Thomas married.

Back to the task at hand, however. Now that she knew what to give Hazel, she needed to find Hazel someone to be an invert with. She had a few ideas

XOXOXOX

Elizabeth was in the midst of Doing Things a Lady Shouldn't Do, perched in the tree overhanging the stable men's quarters, far enough back on the branch for the foliage to hide her, but still within spying distance. She was quite proud of her prowess as a spy, and was sure that no one had noticed her.

Through the window, she watched Gat. Gat was the reason she knew that Hazel was an invert. Because Hazel sometimes looked at Gat in a strange way, like he might look at a prize hunter he wanted to purchase. She was fairly sure Gat hadn't noticed, however. But after some thought, Elizabeth decided he'd be perfect for Hazel. He was a man's man, and a good husband-type for an invert like Hazel. Gat just needed to be persuaded. But once Elizabeth put the idea to him, she was sure that he'd be more than happy to oblige. After all, even if Hazel was the third son of a Duke, he was the prettiest of her brothers, and was considered to be quite a good catch by many of her friends.

Elizabeth waited impatiently for Old Ryan, the chatty Irishman who was head groom, to leave the quarters so she could climb into the window to talk to Gat. She couldn't tarry too long – her tutor would likely wake up from his drunken stupor soon, and she needed to be finished and somewhere not quite so incriminating long before that happened.

Old Ryan finally left. Heaving a sigh of relief, Elizabeth gathered her skirts under one arm and scrambled to the window. She looked around quickly to make sure there were no witnesses, then she tapped on it.

Gat looked up from what looked like his laundry; Elizabeth was pleased to see that his expression didn't change from his normal calm, intent look. It was perfect; no one could ever be suspicious of that face. She beckoned him, and he crossed the room to open the window. 

Elizabeth slid in and gestured for him to come closer. "I need to talk with you, Gat," she whispered. "I must ask a favor of you."

Gat bent his head, his version of a bow. "Lady Elizabeth."

His natural tendency not to speak unnecessarily was one of the traits that Elizabeth admired the most. She smiled. 

"Gat, you must fall in love with my brother, Hazel."

For the first time in her acquaintance of him, Gat looked startled, although Elizabeth was sure that she saw the difference in his expression only because she'd known him since she was a child. "I know the request is somewhat indelicate," she allowed, "but Hazel is my favorite brother, and I'd like to do something nice for him, and since he wouldn't be interested in marrying any of my friends, you would be perfect for him."

"Lady Elizabeth, Lord Hazel is my master," Gat replied.

Elizabeth waved the concern away. "It's a secret, so it's fine. Nobody will know except for you, me and Hazel. Now, I've thought of everything," she said, glancing outside to make sure they were still unobserved. "Hazel is a very direct person, so you won't need to court him too strenuously. I'll set the stage for you, get Hazel to see you for the attractive man you are, and then I'm quite certain that you can take things from there."

"Lady Elizabeth--"

"Hush, I must go. I'll speak with Hazel directly." She paused on the windowsill to beam at Gat with all the affection that she felt for him. "You needn't worry about a thing. I'm sure you'll make Hazel very happy." Then she slipped out of the window, climbed down the tree, and raced to the manor.

She made it back with plenty of time to bathe the flush of her exertions from her cheeks and arrange herself demurely on the divan with her study book, just in time for Master Rhiems to awake and resume her French lessons.

XOXOXOX

"The tea is delicious today, Mummy," Elizabeth said cheerfully. "Ta ever so much!"

"What have I told you about speaking like a scullery maid?" Lady Blenfeld scolded, the huge diamond that hung from the necklace nestled on her bosom flashing irritably. "I won't allow you to go back to Mistress Yvonne's until you've proven to me that you've given up your hooligan ways and are ready to be a proper young lady."

"Yes, Mummy," Elizabeth replied. She bowed her head meekly, and slipped three more tea sandwiches into her pocket. Her exertions earlier had left her quite hungry, but her mother thought a proper lady should limit herself to one sandwich at tea, and she didn't want to be sent to her room just now for being a glutton. 

She needed to talk to Hazel first.

Hazel, who was on one of his seemingly frequent breaks from Eton, was seated at the table overlooking the rose garden, so Elizabeth led a footman over with a tea service and a nice selection of sandwiches and cakes, and plopped into the chair across from Hazel.

"Good afternoon," she said. "I hope you don't mind if I join you. I brought some tea as a bribe."

Hazel, who had a look of mild annoyance on his face, relaxed a bit and smiled. "Of course," he said. "But I'm not much of a conversationalist, today."

"That's fine," Elizabeth said. "Mummy always says I talk enough for five people, so we should have a nice little party between us." She waited for the footman to pour their tea and move away, and then began to tell amusing stories of school and her tutors. Hazel relaxed even more as she prattled on, sipping his tea and nodding politely at all the right places.

Satisfied that she held at least a part of Hazel's attention, Elizabeth decided it was time to steer the conversation closer to home. She took a sip of tea, keeping her eyes lowered and wearing a demure expression. There was no one within hearing distance of them, and Mummy appeared to be deep in conversation with the butler's wife. 

"Hazel," she said, and paused. She carefully set her teacup into its saucer. "I wonder if you've noticed how handsome Gat is?"

Hazel looked startled. 

Before he could say anything, she plunged ahead. "I think he'll make a good husband to someone, don't you?" 

"Elizabeth---"

"But I think," she said, interrupting him, "he's different, somehow. Special. Unique." She met Hazel's gaze and kept her attitude as ingenuous as she could. "He reminds me a bit of you. Perhaps you could talk to him."

Hazel now looked green. "Elizabeth …"

"I'm sure he'll talk to you," she continued relentlessly. "He's told me that he holds you in high esteem. Very high esteem." She hid her crossed fingers in her lap; with luck, it was close enough to the truth that she wouldn't get bad luck from lying.

"Gat. Our groom." 

Hazel seemed to be having a difficult time grasping what was really quite simple. He wasn't usually so thick. "Yes," Elizabeth said impatiently. "Gat. Our groom. You must talk to him, Hazel. Today."

"Elizabeth?" her mother trilled. "I need to speak to you."

"Yes, Mummy. Coming," she called back, then leaned forward. "Today, Hazel. Or I'll tell Mummy about the imported hand lotion from France that you keep hidden beneath your mattress."

She didn't bother to wait to see whether her threat had worked or not, because her mother was calling her name again, and no one made Mummy wait.

XOXOXOX

Hazel sat on a bale of straw and watched Gat curry his father's favorite hunter.

"My sister told me something a bit alarming this afternoon," he said slowly.

Gat brushed the horse's withers and remained silent.

Hazel wished that Gat was a little less stoic at times. "I think that she fancies herself to be in love with you."

Gat moved on to the horse's legs, and pulled up a hoof for inspection.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, Lord Hazel." Gat took out a pick and worked at something in the hoof.

"I see." Hazel took a deep breath. "Gat, if you're leading my sister on---"

Gat barely glanced at him before he dropped the horse's foot and moved to the next.

"I actually didn't believe that to be the case, but I had to ask," Hazel admitted. "Gat, why would Elizabeth suddenly think she loves you?"

"Lady Elizabeth isn't in love, my lord," Gat said.

"Well, I know that, and you know that, but she seems to have a different take on the subject." Exasperated, Hazel pulled some straw from the bale and began to twist it, thinking vaguely of fairy tales and evenings in the nursery with his sister. "We have to do something about it before Mother finds out."

"Lady Elizabeth isn't in love," Gat repeated. He dropped the horse's final foot and straightened, then reached for a comb and began working on its tail.

"You weren't there!" Hazel said. "She was talking about how special and unique you are." Gat made a noise, but Hazel wasn't sure if it meant he agreed or disagreed. "She said you reminded her of me, and asked me to press her suit with you."

Gat started braiding the tail in preparation for binding it. "You must be mistaken, my lord."

"I'm not," Hazel said. He shuddered. "I don't know which is worse. Having her fall in love with you, or having her tell me that you remind her of me, and knowing that she's falling in love with you. The implications …" Hazel shuddered.

"She's not in love with either of us," Gat said calmly. He reached for some red wool and began to wrap it around the base of the horse's tail.

"How do you know that?" Hazel demanded. "She's thirteen. No one knows what goes through a 13-year-old schoolgirl's head."

"I know," Gat said. Tying off the wool, he picked up the gloss rag and began going over every inch of the horse's body. 

The horse's coat shone from his efforts, Hazel noticed. Gat really was an excellent stable hand. "Then tell me."

Gat shook his head. 

"Why not?"

"I can't betray Lady Elizabeth's secrets," Gat replied. He laid the rag down and untied the horse's lead.

"What?" Hazel was nonplussed. "But—" 

"I won't betray yours, either,my lord," Gat said, and led the horse into the stableyard, where Old Ryan was waiting with the tack.

Hazel blinked in confusion, then headed back to the manor.

He had a headache, and he hadn't even had the pleasure of drink to blame.

XOXOXOX

Elizabeth watched Hazel over the course of the next few days. When she saw absolutely no progress in his relationship with Gat, she decided it was time to try a new approach.

Giving her failure some thought, she had to admit to herself that she'd forgotten to take an important romance element into account in her first plan. There was always quite a bit of touching and stuff in the novels, which she had neglected to arrange for. One wasn't necessarily in close physical proximity when one was speaking with one's groom.

So, what she needed was physical proximity. She thought a bit more, and smiled. 

She had the perfect plan.

XOXOXOX

Carefully lowering the saddle pad back into place on the tack bar, Elizabeth's breath caught at the sound of footsteps in the barn. Someone was coming!

She scurried away from the tack box and slipped into the hay rack that ran the length of the stalls. By the time Gat appeared, she had crept to her favorite horse's stall, jumped out of the hay rack, dusted off her clothes, and was calmly feeding carrot pieces to the horse.

"Good morning, Gat!" she trilled. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it? I was just persuading Hazel to go for a ride with me."

"Good morning, Lady Elizabeth," Gat replied. "The head groom just informed me of your request. I'll prepare your mounts immediately."

"Oh, thank you! Would you mind if I watched?" Elizabeth climbed up on a stall divider, arranged her riding skirts to pad her posterior from the hard wood, and smiled as artlessly as she could. She needed to make sure that Gat didn't discover her secret and ruin everything.

"Of course not, Lady Elizabeth." Gat led Hazel's horse to the tether rail by the tack room. 

"He's quite a beautiful horse, isn't he?" Elizabeth said. "I've always admired Hazel's taste. He seems to have a preference for large frames and black coats."

Gat's hand paused minutely; Elizabeth would bet nobody else would have seen it. "Lord Hazel's taste in horses is admirable, my lady," he said.

"Mmm," Elizabeth agreed. "I've often thought that one's taste in horses must reflect one's taste in a husband or wife. You know, like a placid mount for a vicar, or a spirited mount for a youth who's an eligible heir, or a big, strong, muscular mount for those with discerning tastes and an eye to the future."

While Gat gathered the tack he needed with no change to his demeanor, Elizabeth was sure she saw a bit of red creep up his neckline. She swung her legs as Gat adjusted the saddle pad. As expected, the horse shied, and Gat turned a disapproving look upon her. "My lady!"

"Sorry," she said contritely, while subduing her urge to squeal with glee. Perfectly timed! Gat hadn't noticed! "I forgot."

"Horses don't like sudden moves," Gat said as he turned back to finish saddling the horse. "You need to be more careful, Lady Elizabeth. A spooked horse could injure you."

Elizabeth felt a frisson of guilt and pushed it down. "Yes, Gat," she said, dropping her head. "I'm really very sorry."

Gat nodded, pulled the cinch tight and looped the lead around the bar, then went to fetch Elizabeth's horse. To make up for her guilt, she helped him to saddle the gray. They were just finishing when Hazel entered the stables.

"Are you ready for our ride, Hazel?" she called.

"Yes," he replied. "You forgot your hat. Mummy asked me to bring it to you." 

Elizabeth grimaced as she accepted it. "It's so froofy," she complained.

"You have to ride sidesaddle now," Hazel reminded her. "You know what Mother says."

"'Ladies never ride astride,'" Elizabeth recited with a sigh. "Why can't milliners design proper hats instead of these idiocies, is what I'd like to know. If I should be unseated and hit my head, do they think an ostrich feather will keep it from being broken?"

"Lady Elizabeth!" Gat sounded concerned. "Please. Don't say such things."

"I'm sorry, Gat." She turned to Hazel. "I really am sorry. But someone needs to be asking these questions, don't you agree?"

"Perhaps we should be on our way," Hazel said. Elizabeth held her breath as he mounted. 

Nothing. Not a twitch. Her heart seemed to stand still. No. This couldn't be happening.

"Are you coming?"

"Oh," she said, bewildered. "Yes. Yes, of course." Gat handed her up and she arranged her legs around the pommels, confused.

Nothing had happened. The burr on the saddle pad hadn't worked. Why hadn't it worked? She'd ridden horses in the past with burry saddle pads, and they'd always reared or shied violently when she'd mounted.

If Hazel's horse didn't act up until they were on their ride proper, then Gat wouldn't be around to save him. Gat saving Hazel was essential to her plan! It accomplished the dual goals of close physical proximity and a romantic gesture, all at once! How else was she going to bring them together?

What should she do?

"Shall we watch the haying in the south fields?" Hazel asked, gathering his reins. 

Elizabeth nodded, her heart sinking, and rode out after Hazel.

XOXOXOX

"What do you imagine that was all about?" Hazel murmured to Gat when they returned. He watched Elizabeth walk toward the manor, looking dejected.

In answer, Gat held out his hand. In it was a wicked burr.

Hazel was startled. "Are you saying that she---?"

"It was attached to the underside of your saddle pad, my lord," Gat said.

"I hadn't realized she was that angry with me." 

"She wasn't angry, my lord," was all Gat said.

Hazel shook his head. "I'll never understand her." He handed his horse off to Gat. "I'll need the bay tomorrow, for the fox hunt."

Gat nodded, and took the reins, and said nothing more. 

But he watched Hazel walk the entire way to the manor before he turned to lead the horse back into the stables.

XOXOXOX

"You could have injured him badly, Lady Elizabeth," Gat said later, his voice quiet and disapproving.

Elizabeth had the grace not to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. But she wasn't going to pretend that she felt guilty, either. "Why haven't you swept him off his feet yet, Gat?" she asked. "I've given you two excellent opportunities."

"I'm just a groom, my lady," Gat said. "Lord Hazel needs a wife, and a family."

"Hazel doesn't give a fig for having a wife and a family," Elizabeth said. "I've told you. He's not like that. He needs someone like you."

"My lady," Gat said, facing her directly. "He could be sent to prison for what you would have me do."

"Oh." That was unexpected. Elizabeth felt indignant. "Well, that's just silly. What does it matter?"

"It matters very much to many people," Gat replied. "Including His Lordship and Her Ladyship."

Elizabeth waved a hand dismissively. "Mummy and Papa would come around, I'm sure. They love us all very much, and I'm certain they'd rather see Hazel happy with you than unhappy with someone from Mistress Yvonne's."

Gat looked a bit startled, but regained his composure. "Lord Hazel would be outcast from society, my lady."

"Are you sure you're not simply making excuses?" Elizabeth demanded. "You do love Hazel, don't you?"

"My lady, love isn't---"

"Of course it is," she said, keeping her voice brisk. "I understand there may be difficulties. But they can be overcome with a bit of planning. And I'm very, very good at planning." 

For instance, she just needed a bit of time to determine what had gone wrong with her accident plan, and then she was sure she could come up with something that would work. Hazel deserved this. She must succeed.

Her resolve restored, she left to find a quiet place to think.

XOXOXOX

"Elizabeth is very much like Mother," Lord Hazel sighed. "She's quite a force to be reckoned with."

Gat silently agreed, but thought it best not to say so, so he continued to polish a bridle. 

"She's up to something."

"Yes, my lord."

"And you know what it is," Lord Hazel accused.

Gat couldn't deny it, but nor would he admit to it. "Lady Elizabeth has a good heart, my lord."

"But she's stubborn as a mule once she's made up her mind," Lord Hazel said. "Gat, promise me this. If you know she's going to do something exceptionally idiotic, please let me know. I'd hate to see her injured."

"I would never allow harm to come to Lady Elizabeth, my lord." He felt his heartbeat quicken as Lod Hazel looked at him with a candid, appraising gaze that he'd never seen before. Though he would never admit to it, there were times when Gat wished that Lady Elizabeth had allowed this particular sleeping tiger to lie.

"You're a good man," Lord Hazel said. He reached out and clasped Gat's shoulder. "We're lucky to have you here."

"Yes, my lord." Until Lady Elizabeth, in her innocent indiscretion, made known Gat's feelings for Lord Hazel. Gat was certain that it was only a matter of time before he would be found out and likely imprisoned. 

Meanwhile, Lord Hazel's hand on his shoulder was warm and firm. It made Gat ache for more, but he remained composed, and simply returned Lord Hazel's gaze. 

Perhaps he'd be forgiven if he blushed a bit, and imagined that Lord Hazel had, too, and that his hand had stayed on Gat's shoulder longer than necessary, as if Lord Hazel were reluctant to pull away.

XOXOXOX

One conversation or daring rescue, while seemingly sufficient for people to fall in love in the novels Elizabeth read, was quite a short period of time when one thought about it. Perhaps the novels had exaggerated somewhat.

So she was absolutely, positively certain that this time, she'd identified all of the factors needed to successfully bring Hazel and Gat together. She was pleased to note that she had understood the elements needed all along, and had only failed to think far enough through them to arrive at how to bring them together correctly.

It was quite simple, really. Social interaction, physical proximity and an element of danger, while all necessary, weren't enough combined one or two at a time. She needed to create a situation that would bring all of the elements together, under circumstances firmly in her direct control.

And she'd found just the perfect place for it.

She dusted off her hands and tried the board once more, cautiously, pleased when it groaned in an alarming manner. Perfect. Now, all she had to do was to lure Hazel and Gat to the grounds of the long-abandoned and decaying seventeenth century parsonage tucked into the hollow next to where the original manor had stood centuries ago, make sure they were moving urgently enough to be incautious about where they stepped, and spring her trap.

She ripped a piece from her riding skirt and planned how best to use the resulting handful of material, which was essential to her plan. It was only a matter of coincidence that by ruining her riding skirt, she'd be allowed to wear trousers and ride her horse astride until a new skirt could be commissioned. 

Elizabeth was quite happy that two birds had been slain, at least temporarily in the case of the skirt, by one well-planned stone.

XOXOXOX

It was Old Ryan who found the note addressed to Hazel. He tracked Hazel down in the stables and gave it to him.

"'We have Lady Elizabeth,'" Hazel read aloud, heart beating fast. "'If you want to see her alive, bring five hundred guineas in cash and jewels to the abandoned parsonage by 5:00 p.m.' It's signed, 'The Marauders of the Moors.'" He pulled out his pocket watch. "It's already 4:25."

"I'll saddle the horses,my lord," Gat said.

"Just one," Hazel replied. "I'm going alone."

"Beggin' your pardon, milord, but Gat here has the right of it," Old Ryan said. "If you're goin', take him with you. He's a good man in a fight." He fingered the guinea in his pocket that the young ladyship had given him to guarantee that Gat accompanied the young lordship.

Hazel glanced between the two of them, then gave a curt nod. "Two, then. Hurry! I'll meet you in the courtyard!"

Gat disappeared into the stables and Hazel ran to the manor. He slipped into the house via the servants' entrance, determined not to alarm his mother, who would have the County up in arms in an instant. No, it was better that he do this himself. He'd leave word with Old Ryan to tell Mother if he and Gat didn't bring Elizabeth back in time for the evening meal.

But five hundred guineas was a lot of money. He only had ten guineas cash, and knew that the household accounts would only yield another hundred at best. His gold cufflinks and watch fob were minor sacrifices, and he knew where he could find a few other valuable pieces, but only one item in the household was valuable enough and portable enough to act as ransom: his family's most cherished treasure, the Star of Hope.

And he'd have to steal the flawless diamond from around his mother's neck, who wore the Star of Hope from the moment she rose in the morning until the moment she went to bed.

He'd need to think of a plan, and quickly.

Luckily, desperation gave him inspiration in the form of his mother's greatest phobia.

XOXOXOX

"Hurry, Gat," Lord Hazel said breathlessly, mounting the bay hunter that Gat presented to him. "Before my mother catches us." He reined the horse around and kicked it in the flanks, and in a moment was galloping down the drive, toward the old parsonage.

Gat urged his hack after Lord Hazel's thoroughbred hunter, ignoring Her Ladyship's cries from the front steps and the butler's demands that he tell them what was happening. It wouldn't be long before Her Ladyship had every constable in the County searching for Lord Hazel. But it was already nearly a quarter to five, so Gat hoped by the time Her Ladyship could send word to the village, Lady Elizabeth would have already been safely recovered.

Lord Hazel could ride like the wind when he set his mind to it, and Gat found himself admiring his young lord's slim perfection as he moved as one with his powerful mount. However, although he pushed his own horse to its greatest speed, somewhere inside he felt no sense of danger or urgency in their errand. In fact, he strongly suspected that they were about to be set up by Lady Elizabeth again.

So what should he do? If he didn't profess his feelings to Lord Hazel, Lady Elizabeth's schemes would simply get more extravagant and less subtle, until his secret was exposed to everyone. If he did profess his feelings, Lord Hazel would give him the sack, if he were lucky, or turn him over to the constables if he weren't.

He needed to talk with Lady Elizabeth and persuade her to give up this folly.

Lord Hazel slowed their frantic pace as they reached the ruins, and Gat was able to catch up to him. He took his own worn timepiece from his pocket and glanced down at it.

_4:55._

Together, they trotted around the last curve.

A slight lad in a grimy cap stood next to the ruins. He held a billy club in one hand, and a torn scrap of fabric that looked as if it had come from Lady Elizabeth's riding skirt in the other.

"Stop where you are," the boy growled in a country accent. "Or the girl will pay."

Gat closed his eyes in relief. His hunch had been right. Surely, Lord Hazel would recognize his own sister.

"Release my sister, you hooligan," Lord Hazel demanded.

Gat's eyes flew open. "My lord--"

"Give me the money, first," Lady Elizabeth said. Lord Hazel nudged his horse forward, and she quickly added, "On foot. No funny business."

Gat dismounted after Lord Hazel, and kept close by his side as Lord Hazel walked forward, unsure if he should reveal Lady Elizabeth's identity or not.

"Hand it over," Lady Elizabeth demanded, reaching toward them.

Lord Hazel stepped forward and handed Lady Elizabeth a small bag. Gat's eyes widened as the board beneath Lord Hazel's foot groaned alarmingly. Before he could pull Lord Hazel back, the board snapped and Lord Hazel disappeared before his eyes, into a dark pit.

Then the ground gave way under Gat, too.

The fall wasn't far, only about ten feet or so, but Gat hit the ground hard, knocking his breath away. He struggled to breathe, and felt a warm hand on his chest.

"Relax," Lord Hazel murmured. "You're winded. When you've regained your breath, tell me if you were further injured." He looked up at the ragged circle of sky above their heads. "Elizabeth! You could have killed him!"

"Gat's strong," Lady Elizabeth replied. Her head poked out over the hole, and Gat could see she was on her hands and knees, peering over the edge. "And it's not a great distance."

"You. Knew," Gat managed to gasp.

"Yes," Lord Hazel said, his voice quiet. "Relax, don't struggle." He looked up at Lady Elizabeth. "It's far enough to break an unsuspecting man's neck, you little ninny!"

"He's not really hurt, is he?" Lady Elizabeth's expression was anxious.

Gat's breath came back to him with a whoosh, and he coughed a bit as his lungs remembered how to work. He shook his head, unable to answer directly, as Lord Hazel watched him with concern writ across his features.

"He had the wind knocked out of him, but he says he's fine," Lord Hazel replied to her. "You're lucky, this time, but these wild schemes have got to stop, Elizabeth!"

"Not until you two fall in love," Lady Elizabeth retorted. Her disguise had failed in full, Gat saw: her hair was falling in tendrils from beneath the cap. 

"You can't force people to fall in love!" Lord Hazel looked furious. 

"I'm not forcing anything," Lady Elizabeth retorted. "This is Letting Nature Follow Its Pre-Destined Course! So just admit you're in love, both of you!"

"You're a menace to sane people everywhere!"

"And you're a nimsy-wimsy who doesn't have the courage to court his lover!"

Lord Hazel threw a desperate, apologetic look at Gat. "She's a lunatic," he said. "I'm so very sorry she's put you in this position."

Gat shook his head. "Her intentions are good, my lord. She only wishes to see you happy."

"Gat—" Lord Hazel hesitated, then looked back up at Lady Elizabeth. "What are your intentions, Elizabeth?"

"Both of you are going to stay down there overnight until you settle things between you and fall in love," Lady Elizabeth replied. "And no lying about it in the morning, either. I can always tell when you lie, Hazel."

Lord Hazel winced. "She can," he murmured to Gat. "And what are you going to do in the meantime?" he demanded of Lady Elizabeth.

"Since I'm sure this sack contains Mummy's necklace, I'll take it back to the manor and explain that I met you on the road, and you gave it to me for safekeeping while you raced to help a friend in need." She suddenly grinned, looking like the child she was. "How did you get it from Mummy in the first place?"

"I told her there was a spider on it and ripped it from her neck when she screamed," Lord Hazel admitted. "I said I'd get rid of the spider outside, and ran out the door with it."

"Oh, good show!" Lady Elizabeth clapped. "That was splendid!"

"Elizabeth!" 

"Fine," she pouted. Gat pitied the man who married her. "I'll tell Mummy that you said not to wait dinner for you, and that you weren't sure when you would return."

Lord Hazel sighed. "And in the morning?"

"If you've truly fallen in love, I'll lower a rope to you."

"What about the horses?"

"I've got everything arranged," Lady Elizabeth assured him. "I'll tether them in that sheltered spot by the stone wall, take their tack off and give them a quick rub-down so they don't take cold. I've left hay and water there for them. They'll be fine for the night." Her voice softened. "It's for the best, Hazel. Trust me."

"Elizabeth, this is madness," Lord Hazel said, closing his eyes with a look of … despair? Sadness? Grief? Gat couldn't tell. "You've put Gat into an untenable situation. Do you understand? I'm his master. No matter what my feelings are, no matter what his feelings are, because of his position, his needs will always have to give way to mine."

"I know it won't be easy." Lady Elizabeth looked apologetic for a moment, but the moment quickly passed, and determination stamped her features. "But you're both reasonable men. I'm sure you'll work something out. Now, I must go, or Mummy really WILL send out the constabulary. I've left bedding and blankets for you down there, and a bit of food. I'll be back in the morning!" She scrambled to her feet and disappeared.

"Elizabeth!" Lord Hazel called after her, but her pounding footsteps were already fading into the distance. Lord Hazel ran a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated, and turned to Gat. "I'm so very sorry about my sister's actions, Gat. Don't worry. I refuse to compromise you."

Gat hesitated. He was damned either way, now. He may as well be honest with Lord Hazel. "My lord, I've known about Lady Elizabeth's plans from the beginning."

"You did?" Lord Hazel's eyes widened. "Her secret! The one you wouldn't betray!"

Gat nodded, miserable.

"But that's not your fault!" Lord Hazel protested. "She was the one who approached you, am I right?"

"Yes, my lord," Gat admitted. "But---" he hesitated, then took the plunge, "I wasn't unwilling."

"I don't understand." Lord Hazel frowned. "Was it because you felt the need to indulge her?"

Gat shook his head. "It was because I agreed with her," he said. "I also wanted to see you happy."

"Oh, Gat," Lord Hazel said. He sat down on the ground and buried his face in his hands. "I never wanted to involve you with my perversions. Especially not you."

"Thank you, my lord. But if I may speak freely, I think you should know I feel similarly," Gat said. He knelt by Lord Hazel. "I would never hurt you, even if it meant denying myself your presence. Tomorrow I'll submit my resignation to the head groom."

Lord Hazel looked up, a strange expression on his face. "Wait. Gat? Did you just tell me you love me?"

Gat nodded. "Yes, Lord Hazel."

Lord Hazel stared at him. "You love me."

"Yes, my lord."

"You love me."

"My lord?"

Lord Hazel's face broke into a wide smile, as if he'd just received a precious gift. "Gat," he whispered. He put his hand on Gat's knee. "When you said love---"

"I meant carnal as well as spiritual," Gat admitted.

"Kiss me," Lord Hazel whispered.

Gat stared at Lord Hazel's lips, then moved forward to meet them with his own.

The kiss began chastely. Lord Hazel's lips were soft and dry and pliant, welcoming. Gat deepened the kiss, and followed Lord Hazel as he sank backward, to lie on the cool dirt floor. He lay down beside him, and gathered him into his arms.

Lord Hazel groaned, and Gat took advantage of the sound to slide his tongue across Lord Hazel's lips. Hazel opened to him, and Gat delicately explored his lips, his teeth, and as Hazel opened further, the inner mysteries of Hazel's mouth, tasting him, his beauty, his passion, his hidden secrets, and trying to communicate just how deeply he loved Hazel.

He pulled back, to give his lordship an opportunity to breathe, and to change his mind. Lord Hazel's pupils were blown dark with desire, his breaths soft, his lips parted, his face flushed, and Gat knew he'd never seen anyone look as precious to him as this man did at this moment.

"The blankets," Lord Hazel said. "She said she left us blankets."

Gat nodded and looked around. He spotted a neat pile, which, upon inspection, not only yielded warm blankets and soft pillows, but a mound of straw on which to lay them, as well as food, water, and a lantern and matches for the night. The bed took only moments to lay out, the thick blankets layered to shield them from the rough straw, just as the straw offered warmth from the earthen floor. He lit the lamp and looked around their small cave, and realized it was an old root cellar, likely medieval in origin. It looked dry and clean.

"Gat," Lord Hazel said. He'd stripped his clothing away and slipped into the bed Gat had arranged, and now held out his hand. "Please."

His lordship's body was smooth and lithe in the lamplight, his chest hairless, with small brown nipples perched atop lean pectorals. Gat followed the line of his body, to see that Hazel's silver mane was matched by soft, silver curls on his groin, in which his hardening cock stirred and lengthened.

"Please," Hazel whispered again, and Gat took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled down.

Hazel's body tasted of expensive soap and sweat. Gat buried his nose into Hazel's hair, near his ear, and took a deep breath of Hazel's natural scent before he began to mouth Hazel's neck. The temptation to place his mark on that white skin was nearly impossible to overcome, but the sensible part of Gat's mind reminded him that Lord Hazel must not be compromised, must not bear the marks of their illicit tryst. Instead, he suckled on Hazel's ear. Hazel gasped and bucked, his cock now hard and leaking against Gat's thigh.

"I need to see you," Lord Hazel murmured. "All of you, Gat."

Gat sat up and brushed Hazel's hair from his eyes. "Of course, my lord."

Hazel shook his head, his eyes not leaving Gat's. "Not here. Here, I'm only Hazel."

"Hazel." Gat smiled, and stripped off his clothes. _My Hazel. My lord._

He laid on top of Hazel, and held him down, pinned to the bed by body and soul, keeping him safe when he claimed Hazel for his own.

XOXOXOX

The morning sun brushed the western wall of the cellar, dew glistening from the grass that grew from the cellar's lip picked out like diamonds more splendid than Her Ladyship's. Gat turned to Hazel, to find him awake, a soft look of regret on his face.

Hazel was gone, and Lord Hazel lay in his place.

Gat's heart sank, but he smiled. "Wait here, my lord. I'll bring your clothes, and then make us breakfast." He could feel Lord Hazel's gaze like a brand tracing his body, but he merely slipped into his trousers and ignored his shirt for the moment. Gat gathered Lord Hazel's clothing, smoothing out the wrinkles and brushing off the dirt as best he could, and brought them back to his lordship.

"We can't be together like this," Lord Hazel said. "I wish the world were different."

"It is what it is, my lord," Gat replied. "I have no regrets."

Lord Hazel smiled. "Nor do I."

They dressed and breakfasted, and when Lady Elizabeth arrived with their rope, they climbed out of their stolen world and into the real one, and were escorted by a radiantly triumphant and loquacious Lady Elizabeth back home, where Hazel retired to the manor and Gat retired to the stablemen's dorm.

For an instant before they'd parted ways, Gat had thought Lord Hazel would say something, as he hesitated and opened his mouth. But Lord Hazel looked at Lady Elizabeth instead, and his words remained unuttered.

Gat was ashamed by how relieved he was that Lord Hazel hadn't spoken. He hadn't realized he was such a coward.

XOXOXOX

It took no more than a quarter hour to pack and offer his resignation to Old Ryan. The head groom looked at the letter, then looked up at Gat. "Are you sure, man?"

Grateful that Old Ryan understood, Gat nodded. "It's for the best."

Old Ryan shook his head and accepted the letter, folding it and stuffing it into his shirt pocket. "I hope you don't come to regret it," he said. "You're held in high esteem by the family, you know." He held out his hand, and Gat clasped it.

"Thank you, sir," Gat said. "It's been my honor to work with you." They shook hands.

"D'you know where you're off to, then?" Old Ryan asked as he watched Gat pick up his bag.

Gat shook his head.

"Well, when you get there," Old Ryan said gently, "drop me a note, lad. I have family everywhere. We'll see you're well taken care of."

For the first time since he'd awakened, Gat felt his careful mask nearly slip. "Thank you, sir," he murmured.

"Take your hack. You can leave her with the harbormaster or the station master, if you're takin' a train. They'll let us know to pick her up," Old Ryan said. "Good luck."

Gat nodded and went to fetch his horse. He didn't look back as he rode away.

XOXOXOX

The harbor was bustling and loud, human shouts and dockside machinery competing for dominance as ships were loaded and disembarked. Gat towered over the people hurrying around him, smoothly dodging carts full of trunks and valises, and wagons loaded with materials and supplies, and the mass of humanity that flowed around him like water.

The man at the ticket booth nodded towards a huge ship. "She's boarding now. Lands in Nova Scotia. You'll need to hurry, she's leaving within the hour." He stamped a ticket and gave it to Gat. 

It only took him a few minutes to arrive at his ship. He joined the queue waiting to board at the Third Class gangway. Looking at his fellow passengers, he wondered how many of them were escaping their old lives to find new ones, too. Likely most of them. He hoped they found better lives when they reached Canada. He doubted he'd be as lucky.

He handed over his ticket to the sailor manning the gangway and hefted his bag in his hand. The sailor handed the paperwork back and had just nodded for him to board, when he heard his name being shouted from behind him.

"Gat! Wait!"

For an instant, he seriously considered ignoring the call, continuing up the plank, and losing himself amongst the hundreds of nameless, faceless people traveling Third Class. But years of conditioning to obey that voice --- and one night of bliss listening to it as an equal --- demanded that he respond. He stifled a sigh and turned.

Lord Hazel was dressed neatly in a suit, waving to Gat. He looked upset, but determined. Taking a deep breath, Gat met him on the dock.

"You were leaving me." Lord Hazel glared.

The stark accusation took Gat aback. "My lord---"

"You didn't even have the decency to say anything to me," Lord Hazel continued, relentless. 

"My apologies, my lord, but I thought it best," Gat said, bowing his head.

"You didn't think at all," Lord Hazel said. He grabbed Gat's arm. "Now, come with me."

Gat gently pulled away. "My lord, my ship is about to leave."

"I know." Lord Hazel gestured impatiently behind him, and a porter stepped up, bearing two trunks. "You're boarding at the wrong gangway, though." He took Gat's arm again and began to pull him towards the First Class gangway.

"My lord!" Gat protested.

"Hazel," Lord Hazel snapped. He whirled and looked Gat in the eye. "From now on, just Hazel. Canada will be our new beginning. Ours," he repeated. "Not yours. Not mine. Ours."

Gat couldn't believe what he was hearing, didn't dare to believe it. "Your lordship—"

"My name's Hazel. Hazel Grosse." Hazel held out his hand to Gat. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

Gat looked at Hazel's hand, then at Hazel's face. Behind the fierce determination he saw fear, and hope. He looked back at Hazel's hand.

"I knew, you know," Hazel said. "About the root cellar. I played in those ruins as a child, I know them by heart. I could see what Elizabeth had in mind, and I wanted it. So I took the step." He swallowed hard. "I want it again, Gat. Not just stolen moments. I want it forever."

Gat slowly smiled. He took Hazel's hand. "My name is Gat. I'm pleased to meet you, Hazel." And as they shook hands, he whispered, "And I want it, too. Forever."

The relief that flooded Hazel's face let Gat know just how much he'd had riding on Gat's response. "Let's board, then." He gestured again to the porter, and then turned to wait for Gat.

Gat hitched his bag over his shoulder and took his place by Hazel's side, and they walked up the gangway together.

XOXOXOX

_Dearest Elizabeth,_

_Nova Scotia is beautiful --- wild, largely untouched, scoured by wind and sea. There are whales in the harbor, and icebergs, and birds and wildlife I've never seen before. I hope you might visit Gat and me, one day._

_With deepest affection,  
Your brother, Hazel Grosse_

Elizabeth read the postcard several times before she realized that there was something written on the address side as well. The writing was rough, nearly illegible, but she smiled when she deciphered it.

_And your brother, Gat._

Elizabeth read the postcard again. "Nova Scotia," she murmured to herself. "I must start planning."

_fin_


End file.
